Gauge
by LoveOfLiterature
Summary: She didn't trust herself to speak and she didn't want him know what a freak she really was. Arnold/Helga HA Blood and rain can be good for a person sometimes. One-Shot


_**I do not own Hey Arnold or its characters, I just wrote a fun little fic to settle my insatiable need to have Helga and Arnold love. Oh Craig B. (real owner btw. Love you. Let's do lunch) why couldn't you have at least made TJM? Cut us die-hards a break…**_

Almost there...and pop. It was in!

_Wow, that's it_? Helga thought to herself, _Not sure what all the fuss is about_...

Then the blood came. It actually trickled out, like some cheap horror movie effect. The triumphant grin on the young woman's face faltered a little in the mirror as her brand new zero gauge tunnels were hidden underneath the torrent of blood coming from around them in her ears. Her ears now looked like someone had taken a stapler and punched out two little holes, the shiny metal rings were so covered. Helga decided that the next time she gauged up, she would not jump sizes. Four to a zero was a little too much.

She did proudly congratulate herself on her forethought to put on a ratty old white tank top before she began the procedure, you know, just in case. The blood staining the top seemed just a little sweeter in the simple fact that she was wearing her father's old tank. And he had specifically forbidden her to make her ears any bigger. She grinned confidently at herself as she imagined him casually putting on the shirt as he got ready for work to see it resembled something belonging at a murder scene. He would be furious.

Many goals had just been accomplished for the high school senior that morning.

Once the blood dried and crusted up around her proud new tunnels, Helga carefully stripped off the shirt and threw it indifferently into the hallway outside her room. She stood in her plain white bra for a moment longer, looking at the image staring back. The girl's baggy black jeans clung desperately to her bony hips, the half buckled belt doing nothing useful to help the situation, and her pink panties thrust over the hem, gaining a little more leverage around her waist.

Helga poked her ribs, then walked her fingers up each one, counting them. Finally, she looked irritatedly at her chest, easily held in by her B cup bra. Her neck and arms were too skinny and her face held a very unladylike scowl. She didn't even pluck her eyebrow. The only feature she didn't totally loath about herself was her waist-length strikingly blonde hair, which was currently put up into a messy bun for her 'surgery'.

Helplessly shrugging at herself, she walked over to her closet and pulled a black and grey striped thermal out to throw over her head. Once that was accomplished she pulled out a tattered old ribbon and tied it into her hair, adding a shock of pink to her otherwise somber ensemble. Now it was time to go to school.

As usual for the season it was raining outside, so she grabbed her hand-me-down jacket from the rack next to the door before slipping on her vans and sauntering to the kitchen. The fridge was empty as usual, but a hot pot of coffee sat on the counter, one full cup sitting innocently in front. Helga ignored the cup and grabbed a new one from the dish drainer. She had learned several years ago never to trust coffee in any cups lying around the house, no matter how normal they may smell or look. She poured herself a cup, threw the hood of her coat over her head, and trudged to the door, opened it, and began her hike through the rain.

Helga knew the route by heart. She had walked the same roads all her life and knew the quickest paths, and the most scenic. Being as there was a current downpour, the scenic way was what she chose. She walked listlessly down the street, watching droplets fall into her coffee between gulps. She would add the old mug to her 'need to bring home and wash' collection in her locker at school when she arrived. Before too long she noticed a familiar crack in a corner slab of sidewalk and stopped momentarily to stare yearningly up at a very familiar boarding house window.

The light was off within.

Which, really, was no surprise. _Huh_, Helga thought tragically, _Guess I missed him today_...

Still, she couldn't bring herself to move any farther than the Sunset Arms stoop before sitting down on its first step dejectedly in the rain, letting her hood fall behind her head. Mondays were never good days.

_Well what did you expect, Helga_? a bitter voice chided inside her own head, _That he would wait for you like you wait for him all of your mother loving life? Get a grip! What about your cynical, realistic view of everything? What happens to your logic, just because _he_'s around?_

And it was true. Once, for a brief moment Helga thought she would live happily ever after. She had confessed her love to the boy of her dreams when she was nine, he had returned that love with a single kiss just a year later. Heck, they had dated for a little bit in Junior High. But Arnold had moved away to San Lorenzo for two years to be with his parents and they had decided to end their relationship. It had been mutual, and it had been for the best. So why did she walk by Arnold's house on her way to school every day that she possibly could get away with it? Why did she still feel a quickening of her heart when he smiled in her direction at school? Why did she get tongue tied when she was partnered up with him in Chemistry lab?

Yes, their breakup had been mutual, and they never rekindled their relationship when Arnold had returned his Junior year of high school to finish his education in Hill Wood City. His grandma was sick and he had come back to take care of her and help his grandpa around the house and with the tenants. Helga even came over to his house a few times when Arnold wasn't there to check on the old bird who held a special place in her heart.

Grandma Gertie's eyes would sparkle with the life that her body was unable to cope with every time Helga entered the room to talk for a while. "Why sweet Eleanor," the old woman would coo, "It's been too long! How are you treating my grandson? Is he keeping you happy?" And Helga would always lie and make up stories for Gertie about how they had shared a joke at lunch about the movie they saw together last week before quickly taking her leave minutes before she knew Arnold would get home from his part-time afterschool job helping at Mrs. Vitello's flower shop.

Why did Helga still have to love that stupid football head so much? Why did she have to love his family? Why did his family make her feel like part of _their_ family? Helga pondered all of this as she sat on the stoop in the rain.

When Arnold had returned to finish high school Helga had become invisible from spending two years without him. She was the invisible girl in the back of class that only had sarcastic comments about everything, so no one ever talked to her and teachers never called on her. Her grades sucked. No one cared, they passed her anyway so they would not have her again in their class. Then _he_ had appeared.

So she had started dressing darkly and gauging her ears. It was only a couple more months before she was old enough for tattoos and she couldn't wait. The pain of gauging helped her think about other things than what she could have had, once had, had now, and would never have again. Her grades drastically increased so that she could join honors classes that he took, but she was still sarcastic and still invisible. And she never talked to _him_ if she could help it.

Phoebe was still her one and only friend. They made quite a pair at the lunch table, too. Helga in dark baggy clothes to hide the fact that she didn't eat, and Phoebe in her cute sweater vest, black plastic framed glasses, and salad. She had urged Helga to become a vegetarian their Freshman year, but Helga had claimed cows, chickens, and baby sheep were too tasty to pass up. Besides, what she did eat had to count. Helga sat on the stoop, thinking fondly on her best friend. Maybe she wouldn't go to school today. She could send a quick text to Phoebe to reassure her that she...

"Helga?"

The young woman screamed and leapt from the step she was sitting. She turned to see Arnold Shortman's perplexed gaze directed towards her from under his umbrella, hand still on the front doorknob. She thought fleetingly of how only he could ensure his loose khakis stayed perfectly dry in this downpour and how only he could manage to look both relaxed and completely dashing in a black sweater vest and untucked white button-up shirt before realizing she had been busted.

Helga looked down at herself from the sidewalk and noticed how she was soaked to the bone, her messy bun hanging limply from the back of her head. She was sure she looked pathetic. Maybe she could just walk away and they would never mention this again. So she turned to go in the direction of the park. There was no way she could show herself at school looking how she did now.

A hand grabbed her wrist, rooting her to her position on the sidewalk, and the rain stopped pelting her. She turned around to find herself under Arnold's umbrella, merely a foot away from his face, and she blushed. How pathetic could she be?

His eyes showed only concern as the football headed teen loosened his grip on her wrist just to better clasp her waist. "You look flushed. Here," he said, pulling her back towards his front door, "lets dry you off and get something hot into you. You might be getting sick."

The inside of Arnold's house was warm, and even though it was dimly lit it still had an incredibly homey feel to it. Helga clasped her mug more tightly, trying to keep herself grounded in reality as her ex led her patiently down the hall she knew better than he would ever know and up the stairs. Helga was surprised when they completely passed the bathroom on the second floor, and instead climbed one more set of stairs to Arnold's bedroom.

"Stay here," the young man commanded gently, "I'll go get you a towel." He pulled his remote from a drawer in his computer desk and casually flipped the couch out for her to sit on. When he made to exit again he took her mug and added over his shoulder, "Then we are going to talk."

Helga sat back, reclining herself into the old red foldout couch. She absentmindedly kicked her shoes off and brought her knees up to her chest as she laid her head back and watched the rain peck at the skylights that made up the roof. She had so many memories of this place. She didn't want to think about the tongue lashing she would probably receive upon the blond boy's return. Stupid, she should have known to watch for a moment and make sure he was gone before she sat like a love-sick fool on his stoop in the rain.

A series of light thumps announced Arnold's presence on the stairs outside his door before he entered, giving Helga enough time to compose herself. In his arms lay a folded towel, what looked like a set of old clothes, and a brush sitting proudly atop the stack in his arms. Arnold always did think about stuff like that, and a bloom of warmth spread through Helga's chest before she dropped her gaze back to the floor again, readying herself for harsh words.

But none came. Instead, she felt her jacket shrugged off of her and the soft towel ran around her neck and over her head. She didn't move while she felt strong hands gently rub the water from her hair. "You know I can do that myself, football head..." Helga muttered, not making a move to take control.

The young man chuckled softly, but did not stop his ministrations. "Yeah, I know...but if it's okay with you, I like doing this. It's calming, you know?" Helga didn't know. She always found drying her hair a big pain in her neck. There was just so much of it. And she certainly knew that what he was currently doing was definitely _not_ making her calm.

"So," Arnold finally began from outside the towel, "is there any reason you were sitting on my stoop getting soaked and making yourself sick?"

From under the towel Helga only shrugged, not even voicing a response. She didn't trust herself to speak and she didn't want him know what a freak she really was.

The rubbing stopped and the towel was drawn off her head, leaving it feeling much colder than the rest of her body, which was still soaked and probably soaking the couch as well. Arnold sat down beside his childhood girlfriend and took the brush in his hand.

"Wait."

The boy's brows shot up as Helga stopped him and stood from the couch. Without much thought she stripped off her thermal and let it drop to the floor. She didn't voice her delight at the discomfort the action had caused the young man. He immediately turned away from her, giving her some privacy and blindly thrust the old clothes behind him for her to receive. "Oh please," she finally muttered, "It's not like it's anything you've never seen."

She took the clothes from his blind offering hands and allowed her dripping pants to fall to the floor, followed by her panties and bra. She unfolded the garments and gingerly pulled the old sweats up her legs and around her hips. They were way too big and she guessed they were an old pair of Arnold's. When had he grown up? The shirt was similarly sized, but Helga was a little glad of that since she had nixed the bra. Finally dry in most respects, she sat back down next to her blushing assistant.

The shift on the couch signaled him to turn once more and he glared at the girl. "You could have given a guy some warning..." he proposed, holding the brush limply in his hand. When no response was elicited, he sighed and scooted closer to her once again curled form and untied the ribbon from her hair, weighing it in his hand before stuffing it in his pocket for protection.

He was surprised at the length of the locks that flowed from her head, nearly touching the couch cushion. "No wonder you aren't fighting me with this..." he murmured as he began pulling the brush through her damp hair. "And I'll give you props for the great deflection tactic, but I am still wondering what brings a lady like you to a lowly stoop like mine..." he tried again, a fond grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Helga felt his grin on the back of her neck and grinned sheepishly herself. "That obvious, huh?" She breathed in and out a couple times, reveling in the feeling of air entering her lungs and leaving them again. His clothes felt soft and warm against her skin. "Aren't you supposed to be at school like a good little American dream boy?" she asked as a last attempt to deflect.

"Aren't you?" was the response.

Touché.

As if sensing that she was not quite ready to cooperate, Arnold continued on with small talk. "You're really skinny. You should come over more often, getting past the stoop of course, and have dinner with us some time. That'll fatten you up a bit." he teased. As he talked, he worked on her hair, working from back to front. As he finished his offer he accidently caught one of her sore ears with the brush, causing Helga to wince.

"Watch it, you," Helga hissed, rubbing at the sore place. Arnold gently grasped her hair in his hands and brought it behind her ears to get a better look at her injury and saw the silver tunnels crusted with blood. He gave her an exasperated look and silently left the room once again. He returned shortly with a warm damp cloth and sat down at her side again.

"Gauging huh?" he asked as he wiped the blood away from the surrounding area before working on the actual tunnels. "You know, the natives gauged at the village that I lived at with mom and dad. It was a coming of age ritual," Arnold informed her conversationally, "For the boys it showed that they were old enough to hunt with the men and for girls it meant that they were at an age to get married..."

He did not continue that line of thought as he finished his chore with first one ear and then the other. Once both were finished, he gave a contented sigh and turned the girl around so that she faced him. He took his time assessing her and she took hers studying the carpet that hadn't changed in years. Then he pulled the ribbon from his pocket and placed it in her empty hands. "I guess I'll let you handle that one on your own," he grinned.

Helga closed a fist around the pink ribbon and finally brought her face level with his. She watched him defiantly as she took the ribbon in both hands and tied her hair back with expert ease. She still refused to say anything even as she watched his fond grin falter into concern, and finally into irritation. "Well aren't you gonna say anything, Helga?" he groaned, "You show up on my stoop in the middle of a hurricane after more than a year of ignoring me..."

"Ignoring you?" Helga shrieked, matching a crack of thunder that rumbled above them, "I ignored you? You came back last year and barely said hi to me. You didn't notice me after I got my grades up to make it into your classes. You don't even know that I visit Gertie every Saturday while you are at work! Oh no, Arnoldo, I did _not_ ignore you!" she fumed. The sudden rage made her head feel fuzzy and the room was spinning and it was hard to breathe. Pity, this visit had started much more pleasant than she had hoped. Figured.

Unfortunately, the football head noticed her disorientation. "You need food," he decided, cutting into her scathing shrieks of outrage, "And I promise when I come back with it I'll have a great answer to your outrage." He put his finger on her mouth to silence her cursing and jumped from the couch before hiking back down the stairs and out of view once again.

Helga was pretty sure he didn't have any verbal balm that would heal her, or even help her see reason in his uncharacteristically blind behavior other than the fact that he simply did not want to be her friend, much less pick up where they left off. Which hurt her. He hadn't been like that when she had run away to see him years ago. He had been an angel. Her angel.

The bright happy colors of the room clashed horribly with her mood as Arnold returned with a steaming bowl of nice smelling food. "Uh, all I have is ramen noodles, but it's hot and can feed you for a year for fifty cents." he encouraged.

Helga grudgingly took the food and began sipping on some of the hot juice. It was salty, but filling and hot. "This what you would feed me for dinner to 'fatten' me up?" she muttered between sips until all of the liquid was gone, leaving the twisting noodles behind in the bowl.

Arnold smiled his bright, stupid, naive football smile. "Nope, I would go all out. Cook you the works, spaghetti with meatballs, garlic bread, and something sweet and crispy for desert. I just didn't have time today. You gave me such short notice and all..." he joked, "Plus, I didn't want you sitting up here by yourself fuming over what a jerk I am."

Now Helga smiled, a noodle swinging up and whipping her on her top lip as she sucked it into her mouth. "Well you _are_ a jerk..." she said. Why couldn't she stay mad at him? Maybe it was because the thought of her football head being a jerk was unthinkable.

They sat in silence as she finished her meal and placed the bowl on the floor and out of the way of possible destruction. She hadn't even straightened up properly before Arnold had her in his arms, clasping her tightly to him. She felt her pulse race at this unforeseen action as she listened to his heart beat in his chest. "I thought you hated me," he whispered, "I sent you home when you came all the way to San Lorenzo to see me. When I came back you didn't speak to me or come over or anything. I thought I would just make you mad or hurt your feeling if I tried to be friends. I thought you would hate me even more..."

As he murmured over and over that he was sorry, Helga did not push him away. She wondered when she would wake up. So she decided to enjoy the sudden and unanticipated attention and put her arms around him, too. "I'm sorry, too," she said honestly, trying not to let hope fog her realistic judgment of the situation…to no avail.

The rain outside roared with wild life that matched the beating of her own heart as she felt her love hold her and whisper to her, "Forgive me, Helga?"

A tear ran down her hidden face as the young woman nodded vigorously. "There was never anything to forgive, my love. And...I'm sorry I made you miss school..."

The young man's chest rumbled with relieved laughter, and Helga looked up to see his joyous expression looking back. Then his eyes darkened with an emotion Helga felt she knew all too well, and he tenuously brought his face down to hers, pecking her gently on the lips. It was bliss.

When he pulled back and Helga had time to catch her breath from the simple touch she breathed, "Forget the desert. I'll have one of those..." Crap. Why did she have to say such stupid stuff when she was around him? Her cheeks pinked and she gave him a withering glare when his grin broadened even more. So just to get rid of that stupid grin, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and brought his face down to hers again.

This kiss was more enthusiastic and sure. Helga immediately opened her mouth and crushed it against his, licking his lips until he granted her access. She licked his teeth and gums and wrestled with his own tongue. She bit his lower lip and felt her own being sucked gently.

They broke apart for breath, chests heaving and faces flushed with excitement. Helga cautiously laid back on the couch, propped up by her elbows behind her. She suddenly felt very vulnerable with her underwear lying half-hazardly in the floor at their feet and her loose t-shirt falling over her shoulder. She watched the feverish glint in the young man's eyes as he slowly positioned himself over her and held her shoulders in place with his hands.

He began to kiss her again, gently. He laid one soft peck on her lips after another until she couldn't stand it anymore and craned her neck to lengthen their joined lips' contact. As she watched, his eyes flew open to meet hers before shutting again and opening his mouth for even more contact with her. This time she felt him probing her mouth with his tongue, feeling every inch he could before coming back to wrestle with hers.

Helga could feel his weight on her and every time they breathed their chests rubbed against each other. There was so much stimuli that she was getting dizzy, so she was glad when he broke their kiss again and began trailing small kisses down her jaw line to her neck. He continued kissing her until he was at her bare shoulder, nipping it gently, before he stopped, frozen.

Slowly, he raised himself away from her and sat back again on his own cushion. He was flushed, but so was she. Helga couldn't decide what had made him decide to stop and immediately began worrying what she had done wrong. Absentmindedly, Arnold rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. "Helga, I'm not like this," he began uncertainly, "I don't...I don't want you to think..."

Sudden understanding struck and Helga chuckled harshly from her position below him. "Aw, is football head trying to be a gentleman?" she teased.

"Helga, I don't want you to think I would just...you know..."

"Will you really make me dinner tonight?" Helga cut off.

"Yes. No matter what."

Helga felt herself blush deeply as she asked her next question, "Is it like...a date?"

"Only if you say yes."

"Yes."

A new kind of excitement filled Helga's soul. She would have a date with Arnold after three years of being sure he did not care for her anymore. He did like her, and he wanted her to have dinner with him. But she still didn't know how he really felt. She personally knew her feelings would never change. Her love of Arnold only grew each day that thinking of him made her happier.

"Helga...?"

"Yeah?"

She looked at him and he was fidgeting. Great, she knew it was too good to be true. Now he would respectfully take back his invitation and insist they go to school and forget any of this ever happened. "I want to try again," he blurted suddenly.

"Sex?" Helga asked dumbly. She was so confused.

Arnold's cheeks pinked adorably. "Well...that's not what I was talking about..." His eyes darted to hers and his cheeks pinkened even more. "But..." But he seemed to get a hold of himself, because he cleared his throat and his cheeks attempted and failed to return to their normal color. Again, he looked into her eyes, trying to form words into a correct pattern. "Would you ever...I mean, I can completely understand if you wouldn't...because I know _I_ don't deserve...but that's not..._well_...give me another chance?"

A very pregnant silence filled the room as the young man now looked down and away and a very shocked young woman now stared at him. Helga could not process the words. She could not think of their meaning and implication. Was he asking her…? Did he want…? _Oh my loving angel, if you are truly asking for me to be yours then I will only ever be able to answer that I was never any other's. You are the most wonderful thing that has ever been and ever will be. How could you look so unsure and nervous over someone as unworthy as I? How your eyes cloud divinely with emotions I have longed to see towards me…_

Helga slapped herself hard. Really? A monologue? It had been so long…

"Helga!" Arnold exclaimed, allowing his eyes to retreat from the floor at the sharp sound of the slap. He instinctually grasped both of her hands in his and held them, an exasperated glare deepening in his normally soft features.

But the sharp sensation had done its job and Helga focused on the moment. Her eyes had never left his face, but now they blinked and she could concentrate. She couldn't be pliant and weak. She had to be firm and gain control of the situation. So far she had been flying along on autopilot, but that had to end now if she was going to keep her soul intact. She cleared her throat and wished she had her hands back to idly pick at herself and calm her nerves.

"Arnold," she began, trying not to let the nervousness come though to her voice, "I'm going to be perfectly honest with you. And I want you to listen to what I have to say before you say anything, got it?"

A silent nod.

She cleared her throat again, "I love you. And don't open your mouth like that because I am still talking. I love you and I always have and probably always will. When we were together in junior high, that wasn't some little crush I was working off with you. And then you left. And the point to all of this is that I don't think I can do that again and stay out of a padded room, you know? So before you go asking me something crazy like would I want to be with you again, you need to ask yourself seriously if you want that. And I will ignore what you just said and let you make an excuse like you let me do so many years ago on this rooftop, and…" She trailed off and thought seriously about if she meant what she was about to say, deciding she did, "and I would really like if we could be friends no matter what. There. That's all."

A sick feeling nearly overcame her when no smile was elicited from the young man in front of her, and she was very glad he had made her eat those noodles. But she did not break the eye contact that they currently shared. Helga wondered what Arnold's brooding eyes currently held behind them.

After a long minute of just looking and thinking he finally opened his mouth to reply, "Helga, I want to be your friend…" Pale blue eyes dulled and the girl's thin throat could be seen taking a heavy gulp of air, but Arnold continued, "I want to be your friend and go play baseball like we used to with our friends after school some time, and go to the arcade and blow a handful of quarters we could use for much better things, and experience the small adventures the city offers with you like old times." His brows knit together as he watched one stoic tear carve its way down the young woman's cheek even as she held their eye contact and showed no other reaction. Just patient understanding. Arnold gave her hands a squeeze and leaned in a little closer to the girl, "And I also want you to be with me. I want you to be my girlfriend so that we can go to the movies and watch one we have both already seen, just so we don't have to pay attention to anything but each other, and walk with you in the park, holding your hand to show you off as my girl, and kiss you and know that you'll kiss me back…"

A muffled sob erupted from the back of Helga's throat and twin tears pooled and ran down her cheeks. She couldn't even smile. She just let her eyes linger in Arnold's a moment longer as he brought his face closer to hers and planted a gentle kiss on the end of her nose. The shock of that sensation brought her out of her stupor and Helga thrust her body forwards and into his arms, burying her face into the crook of his neck. "You really are a jerk, football head," she mumbled, clinging tighter to his body.

"Your jerk," he replied easily, wrapping his own arms around her thin frame.

They pulled only far enough from each other to brush their noses as their lips found each others' for another kiss. A new one. And neither of them noticed when Phil cracked the door to ask his grandson why he was still at home when school had started an hour ago, and silently turned back around and left them again, smiling wryly.

_**And so ends a VERY long oneshot. Lol Yay me for not making everything turn into sexy times. I really like the thought of Helga gauging because it seems very HER. Oh and I totally made up the bit about the natives gauging. I have no clue why they do it, I just thought it would be cute in this story. :) **_

_**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and lemme know if you think it would be worth it to tack on another chapter of um…other stuff… *pulls on collar*. I hate letting a good set-up go to waste, but I don't wanna ruin a good thing if it suites it best to leave off there, you know? I don't know either….**_

_**Review if you want, it is much appreciated. Again, thanks for reading!**_


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